Honour Bright

Hugh Jackman. Case closed.

Rhiannon sat on the grass of the bluffs, waiting for him to show. She inhaled deeply the heady smells of a late summer afternoon. All of a sudden, a pair of hands covered her eyes. She gave a sharp intake of breath when a low, gentle voice whispered, "Guess who!" He took his hands away and she turned to peer into a face she was beginning to realize that she loved. "Rhys!" He laughed and said, "Rhiannon, we have been meeting here for two months now. I would have been disappointed if you had said another. So...where is Muir?" She laughed and said, "He was busy gnawing on a bone and so I decided to leave him back at the abbey. Sister Mary Margaret--or is it Margaret Mary? I forget--said he could keep her company." He held something behind his back. "So..is that the surprise you have for me?" He nodded and said, "Close your eyes and hold out your hands." She did as he told but she couldn't help the smile on her face. "Oh! OH! How wonderful!" In her hands were a pair of beautiful black calfskin boots. He grinned, "I take it you like them?" "I love them!" She already had her shoes off and was pulling the boots on. He sat next to her and said, "They are from the finest bootmaker in London." Rhiannon stood up and put her foot out to admire them, her eyes shining. He laughed and said, "What was it you asked me once? 'Do I look real---piratey?' Was that the word?" She smiled, "You remembered?" "Miss Conaway, even at the age of ten you were hard to forget!" She hugged him and said, "I shall never take them off!" He offered his arm to her which she willingly took. "Let's take a walk along the shore." She smiled happily at him and said, "You know how I love the sea." He looked down. "I highly recommend that you put those boots back in the bag. They aren't waterproofed yet." As they walked, Rhiannon stopped occasionally to pick up a few shells, her bare feet feeling the warmth of the sand between her toes. Rhys' eyes scanned the skies. Dark clouds were building. "Looks like we may be in for a storm. Are you ready to head back to the bluffs?" She said reluctantly, "I suppose it would be the wise thing to do." They headed back in silence. Rhys looked up at the sky again. "Winds out of the west, we are getting that storm. That's what we get for taking the shoreline." She said, "Think we can outrun it?" "We can try." As they walked briskly back, Rhys finally said, "I don't think this is going to work." The raindrops started coming down. Lightly at first but heavier. The thunder began and flashes of lightning played out. He shouted over the rumbling, "The caves along the coast--let's take shelter." He grabbed her hand and led the way as they ran across the sands and into a cave that was deep enough to provide shelter. "I don't think I have ever been so wet in my life!" she said as she shook the water off her hands and wrung her hair out. Rhys laughed, "Except for the time you took the dip in the brine when the skiff overturned." "You will never let me live that down, will you?" He looked at her and said, "No. Because if not for that, I never would have met that charming little lass." She peered outside and said, "It only seems to be coming down heavier." He sat down and took his boots off. "Oh bother! These may never be the same. She sat next to him. "Think the storm will let up?" "Who can say?" "Where are we?' "Cliffs and caves along this coast that has been a drop-off point for smuggling operations." "How do you know that?" He just shrugged. "I just know." "I think this land belongs to Lord Madoc Castlemaine." "How do you know?" "His land joins my father's along the shore up to where that rock juts out by the bluff." "Wait a minute. You are Lord Conaway's daughter?" She nodded, looking at him quizzically. "You didn't know?" Rhys shook his head. "I never connected it with the manor over there. I presumed you were..." His voice trailed off. Rhiannon said softly, "A homeless waif the sisters took in?" "I just didn't think...." "It's alright, Rhys. I do get to go home around Michaelmas for a few days." "Did you ever...explore...the lands and caves of your father's?" She shook her head and he breathed a quick sigh of relief. He took off his shirt and held it up. "I hope this dries out soon." She looked down at her yellow dress. "And this was a brand new dress, too!" Rhys pushed her hair back out of her eyes and said, "It was very fetching on you." She felt a blush on her cheeks. It always felt like that when Rhys complimented her. But this was somehow different. She could feel a heat rising in her face. He asked softly, "How old are you really, Rhiannon?" She replied, "I turned seventeen in April." A voice in the back of his mind whispered, 'Are you insane, Rhys Morgan?' He reached up and caressed her cheek. She closed her eyes at the softness of his touch. When she opened her eyes, she saw a look in Rhys' eyes that she had never seen before. Tenderness, yes. But something else. A spark that could lead to a flame. And that would lead to an inferno Rhiannon had no desire to put out. She gently touched his hand and brought it down to her bodice lacings. "Rhiannon.....are you sure?" She put her arms around his neck and whispered, "Yes, Rhys. I am sure." That afternoon, as the storm raged outside the cave, they ceased to be pirate and lass but became man and woman. Rhys changed her life and there was no going back.

Wales---Late summer, 1651 The summer sun shone through the trees on the two girls sitting on the boulders by the stream. Their feet dangled in the cool water as they idly chatted. "He sounds like a wonderful man but honestly, you are courting disaster, you know. If the Mother Superior finds out about it, she will send you packing so fast your head will swim!" "Don't worry. It is all very innocent. We just meet on the bluffs. We sit and talk for hours. Athena, the extent of that man's knowledge knows no bounds! I've never met anyone as fascinating as him." Athena looked askance at her. "A month you have been meeting him. So, tell me the truth--how does he kiss?" Rhiannon blushed and shrugged. "I couldn't say. He's been a perfect gentleman." Athena looked at her friend with doubt on her face. "Either you are lying--to me or to yourself--or he's got a passel of problems. Rhiannon, he's a pirate! They plunder and pillage and do a whole lot more than that! IF you know what I mean." Rhiannon lifted her feet out of the cool water and dried them off with her skirt. "He will be leaving in another month. And I shall miss him enormously. Unless I decide to stow away on his ship." Athena looked incredulously at her friend. "Stow away? Now I know you have gone around the bend! You wouldn't last a week on a pirate ship. They would throw you overboard so fast your head would spin. Females are considered bad luck. And no pirate would take the chance of incurring the sea's wrath. Besides, your dog would be a dead giveaway!" Athena was one of a rare breed of gypsy. Her family had stayed in one place in Wales. Her mother was the midwife and local herbalist that all came to for cures and remedies. Her father was renown throughout the countryside for his vast knowledge of horses. Many a Welsh farmer sought Gideon out if his horse was sick. It was said that if Gideon couldn't cure it, it couldn't be cured. Meeting one day long ago when they both had ventured into the woods to pick blackberries, they discovered they were the same age. Even though cultures apart, the two struck up a fast friendship as girls the tender age of seven were apt to do. They met frequently to pick their berries and wildflowers. She found Athena to be fascinating with her knowledge of herbs and potions. She jingled when she walked. Her many gold and silver bracelets and colorful headscarves were the envy of her. Rhiannon would look down at her plain grey dress the sisters made her wear and sigh. Oh, to dress like Athena in many colours and silks! What a contrast the two girls were as they grew towards womanhood! Athena with her beautiful dark brown eyes and curling dark hair, Rhiannon with her long light blonde hair and blue-green eyes. Fpr ten years they had been best friends, realizing even though they were from different worlds, they really were not so different. "So...you are meeting him again today?" "Yes. He said he had a surprised for me so I have to look my best." 'A surprise, huh?" Athena was dubious."What kind of surprise?" "Athena, if I knew it wouldn't be a...ah! Right where I left it!" She pulled a cloth bag from behind the log and shook some fabric out. Rhiannon held up a dress of butter yellow for Athena to admire. "Oooh, I love it! And how did you procure THIS dress, may I ask?" Rhiannon unbuttoned the dress from the abbey and stepped out of it. "My sister Megan was here to see me last week and she slipped a package to me while the Mother Superior was tending to some abbey matters. Megan just got married last year, you know. Daffyd Llewellyn of Bancroft Hall. I've never seen Megan so radiant. They just had a baby in May. Anyways, Megan told me she was tired of seeing me in drab grey and I deserved a new dress so...here it is!" She pulled it over her head and shimmied into it. When it was situated, Rhiannon drew the lacings tight, stuffing and fluffing herself. Athena's dark eyebrows furrowed over her beautiful dark eyes. "I still say you are courting disaster! I really would hate to lose you, Rhiannon. You have been my best friend." Rhiannon said, "Well, Mother Superior WON'T find out, will she? Now....help me with tighten the laces just once more. I need to look positively smashing for Rhys!" Rhiannon pinched her cheeks and bit her lips to redden them. Athena shook her head and said, "You Welsh girls! Why not use berries? Here..." She picked up a raspberry and crushed it. "A little here...some here...NOW! Go meet the young pirate that has captured your heart and tell me all about the surprise next week!" She hugged her friend and said, "That I shall! Anon, Athena!" She turned and waved goodbye. Athena watched her go and murmured in Romani, "God help you, my friend."

Arrogance? Look at the Spanish Armada....

Wonderful news! Being unmeployed sucks. I just finished school for pharmacy technician for a year. I'm trying to get into a hospital pharmacy with my IV training. But I am very happy for you! CONGRATULATIONS!!!!!

I'm so sorry to read this, Hurricane. What a tragedy. My heart goes out to his family and friends.

Rhys and Rhiannon walked down to where the skiff was tied up. "Is that the same one?" Rhys chuckled, "It so happens that one met with an unfortunate encounter with a shark. Bit it clean in two. This one is a bit more sturdy. May I?" He held his hand out and she took it as he helped her into the skiff. Muir jumped in of his own accord. Rhiannon sternly admonished, "Muir, you will SIT and not move." He looked at her with baleful eyes and Rhys burst out laughing. "I guess he won't be moving." He picked up the oars and began rowing towards the Neptune Rising. As they neared the ship, Rhys called out, "Dolan! Throw the ladder over!" A rope ladder appeared and Rhys helped Rhiannon up and over the gunwale, then reached down for Muir. Dolan did a double take. Rhys Morgan? Bringing a woman to the ship? He looked closer and relaxed. She was naught but a young girl. And with a dog even. "Dolan? This is Miss Conaway and the esteemed pooch Muir." Dolan touched his fingers to the brim of his tricorn and grinned. "Pleased t' meet ya, lass!" She gave him a warm smile. "It is wonderful to get a tour of a real pirate ship, Mr. Dolan." Rhys took her by the arm and said, "I'll take over now, Dolan." The quartermaster grinned and said, "Aye, Captain." Watching Rhys and Rhiannon head towards the different parts of the ship, Dolan saw the pride that Rhys had pointing out the various features of the brigantine. "Wot ye make o' it, Dolan?" Carson the master gunner asked. Dolan looked at the pair thoughtfully and then laughed. "Nothing, Carson. Ye know the cap'n. He always throws the little ones back. This be no exception." Carson frowned, "Aye. If ye say so. Yet he ne'er brought one in fer th' grand tour before." Dolan took a pipe out and lit it. "She just be a slip of a girl. The dog be the chaperone!" They both laughed and resumed their work. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "And this is the captain's quarters." He opened the door to the room. It was small but a bit messy. A comfortable looking bed was pushed up against the bulkhead, the covers rumpled. The desk was covered with maps and charts, a quill was stuck in its inkwell. Rhiannon looked at the charts. She picked up one. "What is this? It doesn't look like one of the sea with islands." He looked over her shoulder. Suddenly she was aware of how close he was and how nice he smelled. A combination of the sea and leather. He pointed to what looked like a circle with dots and lines radiating from the the center, bisecting each other. "This is a map of the stars. See this over here?" He pointed to three stars in a row She proudly said, "That is Orion's Belt. The stars are Rigel, Bellatrix and Betelgeuse." He looked at her with amazement. "Very good! And do you know what this cluster of stars is?" She shook her head. "That is the Pleiades or Seven Sisters. I was studying to be an astronomy cartographer at Cambridge." She looked at him with a look of admiration. "Cambridge! Rhys Morgan, you just may be the smartest pirate I have ever met!" Within a half hour, Rhys and Rhiannon emerged from his cabin. Dolan raised his eyebrow and behind Rhiannon's back, Rhys drew his finger across his throat and the quartermaster could hardly contain his mirth. "Dolan, I'll be back as soon as I take Miss Conaway back to her---where do I take you back to? It's getting late." She laughed, "The bluff will be fine. Mr Dolan, it was a pleasure to meet you." He nodded. "As it were fer me too, young miss." Rhys couldn't help but hear the emphasis Dolan put on 'young miss'. He helped her over the gunwale to the ladder along with her dog. Before he threw his leg over the rail, he whispered, "Don't be thinking I am getting ideas, Dolan. She's pretty but young." Dolan grinned and gave his captain a two finger salute. 'Ne'er brought one on board, Captain. Ne'er in all the times I have known ye.' he said to himself. ~~~~~~~~~~~ As Rhys helped her from the skiff, she gave him a smile. "I had a wonderful afternoon, Captain Morgan. Thank you for the portrait!" "Please. Call me Rhys. Will you be back here soon?" She smiled and said, "I am usually here every Saturday. Perhaps I shall see you again?" Rhys took her hand and kissed it. He replied, "I would dare say you can count on it, Miss Conaway." Rhiannon's face blushed as she curtseyed. "It was a pleasure. The ship was beautiful--all that I hoped and knew it could be. And now I must get back before Mother Superior sends her snoopiest novitiate out here to look for me." He removed his cavalier hat and swept into a bow. "Till we meet again, Miss Conaway." As she walked off, she looked over her shoulder and with a wink, she said, "Please. Call me Rhiannon." And with that she disappeared down the stone path.

Wales--Spring, 1651 Rhiannon sat there on the bluff with her writing journal. Gazing out to the horizon, she could see the ships with their tall sails as they appeared to kiss the heavens. She sighed deeply and looked over at Muir, her dearest companion. He was stretched out in the sunshine, his eyes half-closed. "Someday, Muir. Someday we shall be out of here." He raised his head and she pet his ears. "Well....we'll just have to be a little more patient, won't we?" He licked her hand and she laughed. "I don't know how...but we will!" She returned to the journal, licked the tip of the wax pencil, and scratched a few words down on paper. A sudden shadow fell across her paper and she quickly covered the words with her hands and turned sharply. The sun was shining in her eyes and she shielded her eyes, jumping up quickly. Muir instantly sprang into action, standing by his mistress's side, growling. A voice said, "A thousand pardons, lass. I didn't mean to startle you." He stepped away from the bright sunshine into the shade. Her finger touched her lips as she thought deeply. Muir sat quietly but his tail thumped in a wary recognition. The face had grown more mature. He had an air of confidence but there was something...something there that reminded her of another time. She said excitedly, "I can't believe it. I know you! We met before. You--you're Rhys Morgan!" He looked at her quizzically. "We've met?" She smiled broadly. "I see you got a new frock coat." She glanced down and said, "Same boots but they are alot scuffier. I wonder if I would still look real piratey." She reached over and took his cavalier hat off his head and perched it on her own. Comprehension began to dawn on him. He grinned, "Now I remember! You were the little girl who stole my uncle's skiff when you took an unexpected dip into the sea! You and your dog! I should have at least recognized him!" Rhiannon feigned a hurtful expression, "Well, that isn't very flattering! You would remember the dog but not the girl?" He laughed, "Man's best friend, you know." Muir came over to Rhys and gently put his muzzle into the man's hand. He pet him and said to the lass, "It's been a while since I rescued you, Miss.....? I'm sorry. I forgot your name." "Miss Conaway." "Ah, yes! Miss Conaway, nun in training!" She closed her book with a definitive clap and said frostily, "I thought I made it clear that day that I was NOT a nun. I would never be a nun." He bowed deeply. "I should feel for a young woman like you to take the veil would be a disservice to mankind. No, Miss Conaway, beautiful hair like yours should not be hidden under a wimple." She looked out to the sea and murmured, "The first chance I get, Muir and I are out of here." He motioned to the grass and asked, "May I?" She nodded and he sat on the grass and patted the spot next to him. She tucked her skirts under her legs. "I thought pirates never left the docks but here you are on the bluff. May I inquire what brings you up here?" He laughed and said, "We DO like to lose our sea legs, you know. Land under our feet is a refreshing change." "And what have you there?" He withdrew a few sheets of paper and a stick of drawing charcoal. "I like to sketch. Does that surprise you?" She said, "As a matter of fact, it does. From all the stories I heard as a child, all pirates did was plunder and drink rum. You are disillusioning me, sir!" Rhys looked up at the sun and then back to her face. "This is fantastic light. It would be a shame to waste the opportunity." "I don't understand..." "Wait! Don't move! I need a model!" She sat there for a half hour and when he was done, he handed her the sketch. It was a portrait of her looking towards the sea. "This is wonderful! No one has ever done a portrait of me before!" she exclaimed. Rhys put the charcoal in his pocket. She tried to hand it back to him but he shook his head. "No, that is for you." She smiled radiantly at him and held it close to her heart. "No one has ever given me something so personal before. I shall cherish this forever!" He laughed and then stood up. "I need to get back to my ship." Rhys held out his hand and helped her up. She dusted off the back of her skirt and said, "I'd say Mother Superior has figured out where I am. We have finally come to a meeting of the minds. She lets me go and my father continues as the abbey's benefactor and--what did you say? YOUR ship?" He grinned proudly and said, "Aye. My ship. My uncle Henry went on to bigger and better things." "He didn't---" "Oh, hell no! He's still alive. What I meant was that met up with a few friends and over a bottle of rum, they decided to form an organization of pi--privateers. We had taken a French frigate and Henry decided it was more fitting to his station to have a larger ship. Along with a new hat and lots of feathers. Dandy that he is!" Her eyes glowed with a newfound fascination for the young man. "So--you are officially a pirate captain!" He smiled and said, "That's a given fact. Say, would you like the grand tour, Miss Conaway?" "Oooh, I would love it! But Muir would have to go with us. I never leave him behind." "By all means, he is invited! After all, if it wasn't for him, you wouldn't have taken a swim in the briny deep and I may not have had the privilege of rescuing you."

Port Royal had gained a reputation in the 17th century as both the "richest and wickedest city in the world". It was notorious for its gaudy displays of wealth and loose morals, and was a popular place for pirates to bring and spend their treasure. During the 17th century the British actively encouraged and even paid buccaneers based at Port Royal to attack Spanish and French shipping. There was an average of one tavern per every ten of the population. Wine and women drained their wealth to such a degree that some of them became reduced to beggary. They have been known to spend 2 or 3,000 pieces of eight in one night; and one gave a strumpet 500 to see her naked. They used to buy a pipe of wine, place it in the street, and oblige everyone that passed to drink. OK so I lifted this off the internet. We all know about Port Royal. The women did what they did best...FOLLOW THE MONEY. These women are not to be confused with Les Filles du Roi. These were not strumpets. Thank goodness,as my X-times great grandmothers would have been...*gasp* HO-BAGS! http://www.mainewriter.com/articles/Filles-du-Roi.htm

Beaumaris, Wales--Early summer, 1651 Rhys Morgan's hired coach pulled up in front of a massive grey stone manor. Turrets spindled up to the sky. He looked out the coach window and saw the wrought iron gate with the stone wall around it. Almost like a fortress, he thought. As the coachman opened the door, Rhys gathered his coat and put his cavalier hat on his head. "You sure you don't mind waiting?" The coachman shook his head. "I have nothing to do way out here...may as well wait for you, Guv'nor." Rhys pressed a few coins in his hand. "I don't know how long I shall be. Not long though, provided my business goes smoothly with Lord Castlemaine." The coachman tipped his hat. "I'll meander towards the kitchen. Unwritten law that there may be a scone or two in my future. Ta, Guv'nor." Rhys laughed inwardly. 'Guv'nor....for a pirate? Or is that a privateer now?' He walked up to stone steps and lifted the huge lion's head that was the doorknocker. The door was heavy English oak. 'Probably from a tree since Domesday....' "This way, please." The house servant led Rhys down a long hall with marbled floors and into an opulent study with a massive desk of mahogany. "He shouldn't be but a few moments. Would you care for a brandy?" Brandy sounded good to Rhys, seeing he had his fill of rum enough to last a lifetime. But Uncle Henry always told him, 'A captain is no better than his men. And you can lose the postion by a whim of the crew.' So Rhys drank rum with his men. "A brandy would be fine, thank you." The servant poured him a snifter in a Murano glass. He bowed as he closed the doors, saying, "Lord Castlemaine will be in shortly." Rhys looked around the library. Impressive but Rhys was used to a study like this. His childhood home was a manor on an estate. He strolled over to the books and picked one out. Leatherbound...well worn. Lord Castlemaine was a reader. Or his ancestors had been. Above the fireplace mantel hung the portrait of a woman. No doubt his wife, Rhys surmised. She wore a dress of dove grey, her shoulders white and her face reflected her patrician upbringing. Her ebony hair was piled on top of her head. A handsome woman, Rhys thought. But something was missing....no warmth in her ice blue eyes. Almost as if she was looking down in disdain at all who disturbed the sanctuary of her home. He walked over to the window and looked out to the vast grounds of the estate. The grounds were landscaped--and almost too perfectly. At once he had a longing for the sea, wishing the Neptune Rising wasn't in for repairs. It would be at least a month or two before she would be ready to sail again. *Ahem!* Rhys Morgan turned around to meet his 'landlord' of the smuggling operations. There he stood. Lord Madoc Castlemaine. Lord Castlemaine stood about 6'2', broad of shoulder and slim. His raven black hair, without a trace of grey, was in waves and his close-trimmed beard gave his face a sardonic look. Brown of eyes, his mouth was what could only be described as cruel. He carried himself with the air of what could only be described as breeding. Rhys judged him to be in his mid-to-late forties. Rhys gave him a slight bow and removed his cavalier hat. "Lord Castlemaine." Madoc sat down and surveyed the young man in front of him. Rhys had the air of a man who spent a great deal of time in the sun and was all the better for it. He had a lightness to his manner that was incongruous with a man who made his living by the pre-emptively salvaging of goods destined for other ports. Of which they never arrived. Rhys had dressed in one of his best frock coats, his breeches were impeccable and his boots had a high shine to them. The cavalier hat set his features off to the mirth with which Rhys approached life. Lord Castlemaine leaned back and crossed his arms in front of him. "So you are Henry Morgan's nephew. Have a seat." Rhys sat down and nodded. "The operation is going smoothly and I have found new sources of revenue---" Madoc waved him away with his hand. "I have no interest in what the operation is doing. The less I know, the better. Do you have the draft for the bank?" Rhys reached into his pocket and said, "Yes, I have it right here---" Madoc gave him a cold look. "Deposit it in the account. Cardiff. Henry gave you the instructions, did he not?" "Yes, he did and--" "Then do it." Madoc stood up. Rhys did also. "Make sure your crew clean up after themselves next time. I don't want to see any evidence the caves are being used." "You won't, Lord Madoc. I'll see to it the men are discreet." He walked Rhys to the door. Rhys looked up at the portrait and said politely, "Your wife is a fine-looking woman, Lord Castlemaine." "Was." "Beg your pardon?" "She's deceased these three years." The way Madoc said it, Rhys couldn't help but wonder what she was like. She had a haughty face and a face devoid of warmth. A good match for him, Rhys thought. Madoc opened the door. "I will expect another draft in six months." "I shall have it." With that, Madoc left the room. Rhys stood there, not quite knowing what to do. 'Nice doing business with you....bastard,' he said to himself. He sighed, put his cavalier hat on his head and headed back towards the carriage. The coachman sat on the grass enjoying an apple he had plucked from Lord Castlemaine's tree. "Done already, Guv'nor?" "Done." As he took his seat in the coach, Rhys turned to the coachman and asked, "Might I ask, is Lord Castlemaine married?" "Not now. Heard he is in the market, as it were. Wife died a few years back. Tragic, it was." "Really. What happened?" The coachman picked up his whip and took his place on the buckboard. "Fell down the stairs one night. Broke her neck." "How tragic!" The coachman's face turned stony. "Aye. For all but Lord Castlemaine." "What do you mean?" He lightly switched the horses. "Upon the death of Lady Castlemaine, Lord Madoc Castlemaine inherited for himself four hundred acres of grassland between the forest on the edge of the property all the way to Lord Conaway's land." Rhys sat there and pondered, "You don't say." "Aye, I just did, didn't I? But you didn't hear it from me." Rhys murmured, 'Bastard...' "What?" "Nothing. To the docks, please." "Sure thing, Guv'nor."

Gibbous Moon: Gibbous Moon individuals have a calming influence, a caring, constructive nature and a compulsion to help others. Your hope is that, through your life and work, you will contribute to the improvement of the world in some way. Whether consciously or unconsciously, this can become a "mission" with you ~ take care not to follow ideologies too blindly in your eagerness to accomplish your ends. Persevering in the face of obstacles will lead to maturity and will bring fulfilment and enlightenment. Look to your middle age for the recognition of your endeavors. To me it just looks like a big Black-and-White Cookie. Yeah, that's it! I was born under the Cookie!

On the flip side, know when to bail out. If it isn't going to work, no amount of wooing and flowers will do it. No woman--at least this one--wants a man who kisses her arse. So cut your losses and walk away with some dignity.

I played this on another forum site. Thanks, Jib! I ended up with a nice ship with a sunken marble tub, a heated towel rack and champagne and chocolate dipped strawberries. Life is great, n'est-ce pas?

I missed this thread so I am dredging it back up. The Neptune Rising. Inherited. Promised. Inherited promise? Figurehead is Neptune with his trident held high. Yeah. I like it. Now if only I was a captain..... She with the most feathers wins.

Aboard the Neptune Rising in the open sea---1650 "Henry, this fish is superb!" Henry leaned back and smiled. "Thanks to Dolan for snagging into that school of tuna. Nothing like fresh fish for the men." "But you didn't bring out the Madeira for nothing." "Whatever do you mean?" Rhys narrowed his eyes. "You have something on your mind, Henry. I haven't spent all these years on the Neptune Rising for nothing." Henry poured another glass of wine and topped Rhys' off. "Rhys, it is no secret you are like a son to me. Sure, you are blood kin but I have always regarded you as more than a nephew. Rhys clinked his glass with Henry's. "And I feel the same way. A better mentor I never could have picked. If I had been looking." Henry took a long sip of his wine before continuing. "I have something of importance to discuss. I've decided to organize the privateers in the Caribbean into a force to be reckoned with. I've been in touch with a few--Morris and Jackman to name a few--and we think if we become an organization, we will have more of an impact breaking the yoke of the Spanish Main." Rhys nodded his head slowly. "Sounds like a solid plan. Have you any ideas?" Henry laughed. "Yes, I do. And we are meeting in Port Royal to discuss it. How does Order of the Brethren Coast sound?" Rhys agreed, "A force to be reckoned with, I daresay." Henry leaned forward and his eyes glittered with ambition. "And a force like that--and the head of that force--deserves a big ship, wouldn't you say?" "Not to mention a big hat. With lots of plumes. What are you getting at, Henry?" "You know that French frigate we took six months ago?" "The one you left in drydock in St Maarten?" "The very one. She'd make a fine flagship, wouldn't she?" "But you HAVE a flagship, Henry. Neptune Rising has been your pride and joy." "Aye--but it is time I be trading up." "You intend to sell the Neptune Rising? Henry said exasperatedly, "For a Cambridge boy, you aren't quite good at sussing things out. I'm giving it to someone." "Dolan? Pretty high reward for a passel of fish, Uncle." Henry rolled his eyes. "Do I have to spell it out for you, Rhys? I'm leaving the Neptune Rising in your capable hands." "ME?" "I've watched you the past five years. You love the ship as much as I do, maybe even more. Sure, I could sell her. But would anyone love her like a Morgan?" "Neptune Rising---to be mine?" "Rhys, you started out as an astronomy cartographer. But you've taken to pyracy--and let's not deny it, we call a spade a spade--like a duck takes to water." "But, Henry, what of the smuggling operation in Wales?" "You can run it. Hell, you practically do anyways!" "And what terms do you want out of it?" "Lord Madoc Castlemaine gets his ten percent. Kick me back another ten percent and that leaves you with eighty percent for you and your crew. That ten percent will keep me in rum and pleasurable company." "And will I have to meet with Lord Castlemaine to introduce myself as the new proprietor of his caves?" Henry shook his head. "Not very often. You remit the payment to a bank in Cardiff. Lovely resort spot. In fact, I think I have only met him twice. Just lost his wife last year. Fell down the stairs and broke her neck." "And you will make all the arrangements?" "No arrangements to make. Hell, Rhys, don't make this more complicated than it is. Once a year, Lord Castlemaine gives a ball. I go there, make all the right noises, pass myself off as Lord Henry Morgan as I was born and garner respect among the landed gentry. I get on with it. I even met Lord Conaway at the last ball. Poor sod has no idea his caves are my prime outlet for ill-gotten goods." Rhys sat back, the proposal almost too much for him to absorb. But a smile slowly spread over his face. "It could be interesting--and an adventure besides!" "Not to mention it will set you up financially for your future." "As an astonomy cartographer? "Hell, Rhys, you can even buy your professorship at Oxford." "Cambridge." "There too." They clinked glasses again and Rhys said, "To the Neptune Rising." Henry smiled back. "Long may she plunder!"

*Honour comes in with a dozen pizzas, a case of beer and a can of Raid* This is for the bugs. The pizza and beer is for us. I love the look here, Stynky. Now hand me a paintbrush, please!

I wake up and vow never to eat a pizza with the works after 10 PM EVER AGAIN! OK my honest answer on the other forum was I stash my stuff and watch to see how they all interact without getting my butt kicked.

Oh, I LOVE what you have done with the place! How about a house forum-warming? And thanks for adding the gazebo.....

Jack rubbed his hair with a towel. "That seems to have done the trick. I threw the water in some potted plant you have. Hope you don't have a crop of melons next year, mate." He sat down on the chair and held his hands out. "The shirt's a bit large but I can't begin to tell you how nice this feels." Rhys opened a bottle of brandy and poured two glasses, sliding one of them across the table to Jack's waiting hand. "You said you were going to tell me a story. So...I love sea tales. Let's hear it." Rhys took a deep drink of the brandy, letting its warmth spread through his body. "Ever hear of Colonel Diego de Castille y Mendoza?" Jack shook his head. "You should. You just cuckolded him." Jack spewed his brandy across the room. "Damn! I had no idea the wench was married." Rhys leaned back in his chair. "That, Jack Wolfe, is no wench. She is the Countess de Castille y Mendoza. But, as she said, you can just call her Mercedes." "You seem familiar with her. Have you and she ever...." Jack made a gesture leaving no doubt as to what he wondered what Mercedes and Rhys had ever done. Rhys laughed with derision. "No, I never had that pleasure, Jack." "Too bad, mate. It was..incredible!" "No doubt. And I can name a dozen men who can testify to that." "A--a dozen?" "She's known as the catch of Cuba. Providing you don't catch something." Jack automatically started to squirm. Rhys said, "You know what they say, 'A night in the arms of Venus leads to a lifetime on Mercury!' " He then burst out laughing at the look on Jack's face. "Oh, I'm sure Mercedes would never let that happen to her. She has access to the best medicines and physicians hush money can buy." "But....she was so...passionate! So...." "Desperate?" "Now hold on there! A woman isn't desperate when she wants me and I'll thank you to---" Rhys waved the upcoming temper away. "You are a hot-blooded one, aren't you?" Jack settled down and Rhys filled another glass for him. "This is a pattern with the fiery Countess. She keeps a room at the tavern on the nights she decides to prowl. And when the revered Colonel is off on his power trips." "Power trips?" Rhys poured himself a glass. "Colonel Diego y Castille Mendoza--related to the Castille dynasty. Think Isabella was an aunt distantly related. Isabella, you know, the mother of Catherine of Aragon. Although I think Diego was more suitably descended from her daughter Joanna the Mad. Diego goes insanely crazy when things don't go his way." "And Mercedes doesn't go his way?" "Mercedes goes her own way. And frequently." "Does Mendoza know?" "He does. Let me explain about Diego Mendoza. He is trying to rebuild the Spanish navy one vengeance at a time. See, he hates all Englishmen and holds us--even though I am Welsh---personally responsible for a little public humiliation called the defeat of the Spanish Armada. Being a superb military man, Diego always felt the tide would have turned in their favor except for one thing--besides the weather." "What was that?" "In order to execute their 'line ahead' attack, the English tacked upwind of the Armada, thus gaining the weather gage, a significant advantage. Remember that maneuver, Jack, if you ever become a commander and find yourself in a situation. It comes in handy. Henry has used it before and it works briliantly. Anyways, this is besides the point. Diego wants to make each and every Englishman pay for it and Mercedes wants to make Diego pay for ignoring her in his conquest for power." "She only goes for Englishmen?" "Yeah. Her little way of getting even. And there is something else." "What is that?" "Mercedes is bored. Not to say she didn't enjoy herself. But I would guess by this time tomorrow, she will be esconced in those sandalwood scented sheets with another of our mother country's sons." Jack threw back another drink. "You mean she...she...." "Used you? Yeah. I'm afraid so. Oh, don't take it personally. She had a good time, I am sure of it. But mark my words--if Mendoza ever finds out the name of any one of them, his murderous temper will be unleashed and he will make an example of him." "And what of Mercedes?" Rhys shrugged. "Who cares?" Jack looked down at his glass. Rhys filled it again. "Let me guess. You do. Well, don't. Countess Mendoza can take care of herself. Diego forgives her. He always does." Jack sat there looking dejected. Rhys stood up and stretched. "Just put this in your book of remembrances in the chapter entitled, 'What I did on my visit to Cuba' or some such rot. Tomorrow she will be a smile on your face that your wife won't understand." "I have no wife." "Good. Then a smile on your face your future wife won't understand and you won't have the ensuing guilt." Jack punched the pillow and rolled up a few blankets. "My deepest thanks to you. For the rescue and the enlightenment." "Tomorrow I will deliver you to town. I suggest you get a new hat and not return to that tavern and you will be safe." Rhys blew out the oil lamp. "Goodnight, Oxford." "Goodnight, Cambridge." Together they said, "Oxbridge!" and laughed.

I'll be there at the Pirates Magazine booth if Matt and Klaus will have me again! Mooseworth, please say hi!

'Lean Mean Thirteen' by Janet Evanovich. You have to love bounty hunters with blown up cars and crazy grandmothers! Oh...and pharmacy textbooks so I can study for the board exam.

OK on a serious note-- 1. cutlass or rapier 2. flints and match stuff for fire 3. all the ship's canvas

If it is Barbados or St Lucia I am shipwrecked on, it would be suntan lotion (SPF4 because I wanna look good when I am rescued) a huge beach towel and a frozen mudslide. If it is a DESERTED tropical island, it would be duct tape, WD40 and a nail file. With that, you can do ANYTHING!

I love backstories. It lets us see why the people became the way they are in retrospect. So maybe why Jack Sparrow is the way he is. I would LOVE to see a backstory on Barbossa. Maybe even the mutiny done. Mutiny on the Black Pearl. Yeah. And I bet a woman was involved.......

"That's the last of it!" Henry leaned back and stretched his back. Rhys surveyed the booty they had carefully hidden in the cave, his torch making shadows on the walls. "I didn't think you would be able to fit all of it in here, Uncle Henry. You are sure it is safe and will stay dry?" Henry snorted, "Of course I am sure! You think I would put this fortune just anywhere? Besides, Lord Conaway is too arrogant to think anyone would use his property for criminal activity and Lord Castlemaine--the grey stone manor just beyond the bluff--well, let's just say he can be bought for a price." Rhys raised his eyebrow. "You have the cooperation of the gentry?" Henry chuckled, "Every man has his price, Rhys. Remember that. There is not a man alive that can't be bought or---" "Blackmailed?" "Such an ugly word! I prefer 'induced to participate with an exchange of information.' I have the information and they are induced to participate. Lord Madoc Castlemaine does have a few skeletons rattling in his proverbial closet." Rhys smiled, "Uncle, you always did have the gift of the Welsh upon your lips." Henry laughed. "And now here we are in Beaumaris and I know a good tavern with cold ale and buxom tavern maids. We can get a warm bed and a hot bowl of soup." "Or vice versa if we are persuasive!" Henry laughed and clapped his nephew on the shoulder. "Now you're talking!" Henry looked with affection at his older brother's son as Rhys made his way to the tavern bar to get the ales. His mind drifted back to the day that Rhys had made his way to the Neptune Rising, Henry's flagship. "Uncle Henry?" The privateer looked up from the gunwale to see a lad of fifteen, a wool cap on his tawny hair and his grey-green eyes full of merriment. "Rhys? What in the name of all creation are you doing here?" Rhys hefted his duffel and threw it on the deck. He crossed his arms and said, "I'm sailing with you." "WHAT? What about your studies?" "What better way to learn astronomy cartography than to sail in the middle of the ocean?" "And what does your father say?" Rhys set his mouth in a firm line and said nothing. "You didn't tell him?" "Well, I did in a way....." "And what 'way' is that?" "I left him a letter." "I see." Rhys went on in a rush, "It's not like I wouldn't learn anything. Uncle Henry, I would get more experience with you than I ever would sitting in a stuffy university. And Father always said that experience was the best teacher. And I would pull my weight. I don't expect to be treated as your nephew but as one of the crew. And at the end of a couple years, I can pick up my studies at Cambridge again. You know our motto----'From here, light and sacred draughts. From this place, we gain enlightenment and precious knowledge.' " Henry shook his head. " 'From this place', Rhys-- this place is Cambridge. Do you have any idea what life aboard a pi-- a privateer ship is like?" "Precisely why I want to join with you. I'll make you a bargain. If, after three months, it is not working out for both of us--or you alone--you can drop me off at the nearest port and I'll book passage back to Wales." "Cambridge." "Whatever." "And you promise to continue your education if this doesn't work out beneficially for both of us?" "Absolutely." Henry stuck out his hand and said, "Welcome aboard, nephew!" "Ah, ah, ah.....that is Rhys to you....Henry!" "Henry? You seemed a million miles away." "Just reliving the past, my boy." Rhys set the ale down along with a hearty stew and brown bread. "Beautiful countryside, Wales is." "Miss it while at sea?" Henry asked. "Yes and no. The sea represents freedom and the land represents---" "Settling down?" "Aye. And that I am not ready to do." Henry took a spoonful of the stew and wiped his mouth. "Someday you will, boy. Sure, you are only twenty. But someday, some little lass will creep into your mind and get under your skin and then it is good-bye, briny deep and hello, hearth and home!" Rhys laughed, "While I have known my share in port, none touch my heart, Henry." Henry nodded sagely, "She's out there, my lad. She's out there. And then you can say good-bye to your heart!"